Pitcher's Secret Baby: This Secret Baby, #3

By Rachel Foster

He is one of the best pitchers in baseball and plays for the Chicago Cubs. Heather wins a drawing and gets a date with Clayton, one of the best pitchers in professional baseball. They end up hooking up. She ends pregnant but has no way to contact him because they didn't exchange cell phone numbers. Plus, he's a rich baseball player so it's nearly impossible to contact these kinds of people. Now years later, she keeps running into him and he doesn't even remember her. She is scared to tell him that her kid is his, so she doesn't while they start to hangout and date…

• Language: English
• Publisher: 3rd Publishing
• Release date: Mar 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215636633

Book preview

1

H

EATHER

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Dina Mayer, my best friend, bursting through the doors of my salon, Breezy Cuts. A big smile was plastered on her face – not a doubt in my mind she had something on her mind that most definitely had nothing to do with work.

"Goood afternoon," she said, grinning at the handful of women seated in the small waiting area.

Hey- Jules, my receptionist, barely had a chance to say even that as Dina sauntered past like she owned the place, her hand raised slightly.

Dina, tall and leggy and redhaired, with a wide, tooth-filled smile and cute features dusted with freckles, put her hands on her hips as I continued cutting.

Hey! she said.

Please tell me you didn’t just barge into my salon during the middle of a shift.

Shannon, the middle-aged woman whose hair I was in the process of cutting, appeared confused. I didn’t blame her. I glanced around to the other employees, all of them with their clients. With a nod, I wordlessly told them to get back to work, to not worry about it.

Hey, it’s my salon, too, she said.

"Just because you work here doesn’t mean it’s your salon, babe."

Same difference. She kept right on grinning, as if she desperately wanted me to ask what was on her mind. Knowing her, it wasn’t anything good.

Whatever it is, I said. I sure hope it’s business-related.

In a matter of speaking.

Luckily, I’d been just about done with Shannon. With a few more snips I finished her off, giving her a mirror to check out her new cut.

Perfect, she said.

Glad to hear it. And I was. I loved my job, loved owning my own business. Each satisfied customer was a feather in my cap. Same day next month?

Sure! And how would you feel about me as a blonde?

Dina didn’t wait to respond. Perfect, she said, leaning in a putting her hands on the chair’s armrest. You know what? I wouldn’t even stop there. I’m thinking platinum blonde hair, auburn highlights, and a sassy, short trim.

Short? asked Shannon. You...you think I can pull that off?

Are you kidding? asked Dina. "With those cheekbones? It’d be a crime not to put as much of this face out there as you could."

Shannon’s features lit up, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing – but loved it.

How about this, said Dina, helping her out of her chair. Let’s get you sorted out with Jules for a cut and dye job next month. If you don’t love it like crazy, it’s on me.

Well, said Shannon, clearly a bit excited and overwhelmed by what was happening. "That...I don’t know if I could say ‘no’ to that."

"Of course you can’t. Now, enjoy your new cut, and we can’t wait to see you in a month."

Shannon, by now all smiles, stepped over to Jules’ desk.

Now, said Dina, coming over to me and taking my hand. Your office.

Why?

Trust me.

I pursed my lips before giving a look to Mara, one of my other stylists. I gave her a nod, one that said, You’ve got the floor, and she nodded right back.

Together, Dina and I went into my small office. I flicked the lights on, the big window on one wall giving me a full view of the salon floor. I loved to come to my office during a busy day like today, to look out on my business, the place I’d built with my own two hands. I loved watching the stylists cut, chatting with the clients. It was perfect – exactly what I’d hoped for when I’d started the place.

But at that moment, Dina wanted to be the center of attention.

She glanced at my laptop open on my desk, and I gasped when I realized what was on the screen. It was a baseball player, one who I happened to have a little bit of a crush on.

OK, a major crush on. His name was Clayton Brown, and he was about the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life. He was tall and built, with shaggy hair the same chocolate color as his sexy, bedroom eyes. His shoulders were broad, his tall, powerful body packed into the suit he had on for the photo I had opened on my laptop.

Is that-

Nope! I shouted, closing the laptop, my face going deep red.

She laughed. I don’t get what you’re embarrassed about. If you’re going to have a crush on someone, it might as well be the hottest guy in sports.

"It’s not a crush. I just think he’s cute."

"I’m pretty sure that’s what a crush is."

A crush is what a fifteen-year-old has for some upperclassman. I prefer to call it an...aspirational affection.

Another laugh. Call it whatever you want. I still think it’s cute.

I was eager to change the subject.

Alright, I said, crossing my arms. What’s up?

You see that out there? asked Dina, sticking her thumb out toward the main floor. I just talked her up from a trim to a full-on dye job. Probably tripled the amount of money she’s spending. And more than that, I was right – she’ll look great. Everyone’s happy, right?

Dina had a point, I had to admit. And while she could be a little...much at times, she was still one of the best stylists I had – not to mention, my best friend.

Alright, I said, allowing myself a smile. Your killer sales tactics have bought you a moment of the boss’ time.

Damn right, she said with a proud nod. Anyway – do you remember what today is?

I cocked my head to the side, totally confused. Today’s something?

Her eyes went wide and she opened her mouth in disbelief.

"I had a feeling you’d forget, but damn, poor, naïve me had been hoping you wouldn’t."

I scanned my memory. Wait...today’s not your birthday, is it? No, that was last month.

She smirked. I know we got kind of crazy at my party, but no way you’d forget something like that. God knows I didn’t forget that gorgeous finance dude I brought home at the end of the night.

Dina glanced aside, as if memories of her party had come flooding back – good memories. That was another thing about Dina. Somehow, she always managed to have an interesting, handsome man in her life. I had no idea how she even found the time for dating. And I didn’t even want to think about how long it had been since I’d hung out with a man.

She shook her head, putting her focus back on the subject.

I’ll cut to the chase, she said, putting her hands on her hips. It’s the day you’d agreed to take the afternoon and evening off so we could hang. You know, because you and I haven’t actually hung out in months.

Didn’t you just say we did your birthday party last month?

"That doesn’t count – you didn’t have a choice in going to that. Best friend, remember? No – we’re hanging out today, whether you like it or not."

I glanced over at the shop floor, the place a bustle of activity. Another pair of women came into the shop, making their way over to Jules at the front desk.

But Dina was right – we’d made plans.

I don’t know, I said. Look how busy we are! You think I can get away from the place for a whole day?

I had a feeling you might say that, she said, shaking her head. "Heath, you’ve got the most amazing stylist staff in Chicago. Most businesses in this industry would kill for a group of ladies with this much talent."

Sure, no argument there.

"And part of having an amazing staff is being able to trust them. I know this place is your baby and the idea of not being here for an hour is enough to make you sick. But you can’t be the helicopter parent version of a small-business owner."

"‘Small business’ owner for now. Two more locations in two years – that’s the goal."

"And no doubt in my mind you can do it. But you need to make room in your life for other parts of, well, life!"

Like what?

"Like, I don’t know, going out for a day of shopping with your best friend. It’s perfect out right now. We can enjoy the amazing weather, head down to Addison Mall and do some shopping, maybe check out some cute guys..." She flashed me a grin at this last part, as if it was what she was most interested in.

Don’t know about the ‘guy’ part.

And why not? You know you can’t marry your salon, right?

I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.

Come on – let Jules handle the appointments for today and come out and enjoy the afternoon. It’s Chicago – you know you have to enjoy these days when you get them.

She had a point. Through the glass front of the building, I could see how bright and sunny it was, the branches of the trees lolling gently in the breeze. And she was right about Chicago – here in the Midwest, the weather was known to change on a dime. A nice day today might lead into a boiling, humid one tomorrow. And then maybe even a snowstorm after that.

Come on, she said, taking me by the hand and leading me out of the office. Let’s go!

"Hmm, well, I did read about how too much work could lead to burnout, and burnout leads to loss in productivity, and that means a loss in profit."

Sure, she said. Whatever gets your butt out the door.

As much as I wanted to spend the rest of the day at work, I knew that getting out would be a little better for me.

Alright, fine.

Yes! said Dina, pumping her fist. Let’s go.

With that, we left the office. I stopped by the front desk, taking a few minutes to go over all the appointments for the day with Jules, making sure we had them covered with the stylists who’d be on hand. Once I was satisfied, leaving the keys in Jules’ hands, Dina and I left the shop.

And damn, was it beautiful. The sun was out, the air just the right amount of warm. A few trailing clouds floated through the sky, and a gentle breeze flowed through the air, cool enough to feel good, but not enough to be cold.

It was about as perfect as a day Chicago had to offer.

Now, said Dina, leading me to her dark blue kia parked down the block. We’ll hit up Addison first, grab a bite to eat. And we’ll figure out what to do next, because there’s something there I really want to show you.

What is it?

She flashed me a coy smirk as we approached her car. You’ll have to wait and see.

D, you know I hate surprises. I like my life to run the same way as my business – nice and laid out and predictable.

"But that’s not how life is – you can’t just lay out your entire life in a spreadsheet or something and expect it all to play out exactly like you think it will. You need a little excitement every now and then, you know? And that’s what I’m here for." She flashed me one more smile before opening the driver’s-side door and getting in.

We spent the drive up to the mall coming up with ideas for how to spend the day. And while I was still a little apprehensive about leaving the salon in the middle of the workday, the more we talked about it, the more a little time off sounded pretty damn good.

A half hour later, we pulled into the parking lot of the mall.

Alright, I said, stretching my arms and legs before we started off. Can I know what the surprise is now?

You’ll see when you’re in there, she said. "But right now, I’ve got a totally killer idea."

Oh no, I said. What is it?

Do you know what a ‘cold approach’ is?

No idea.

It’s when you go up to some random person in public you think is hot and, well, tell them what you think.

You can’t be serious. You’re saying you want me to just waltz up to a random dude and, what, be like, ‘hey, nice ass’?

She shrugged. Crazier things in the world, right? It’ll be good for you.

"Good for me how, exactly? Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like a good way to get a restraining order put on you."

Please, she said, swiping her hand through the air and dismissing the idea. You think a total babe like you would get anything but a phone full of numbers by the end of the day? Hell, you could probably have any guy in this mall in bed with you within the hour. She grinned as she opened the door to the nearest clothes store. Married or not.

D! I said, trying not to laugh from the sheer scandalousness of what she’d suggested.

What? A ring...that’s just another challenge.

I shook my head, still laughing.

We entered the store, the place packed with people.

There, said Dina. Like that guy.

We hadn’t been in the store for a full minute and she was already picking out guys.

Who?

Him. Blondie. She pointed ahead, and I saw right away who she was talking about. A few rows ahead was easily one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen in my life. He had a head of bright blond hair slicked back behind his ears, his profile so perfect it looked to be chiseled out of marble. He wore a white dress shirt, navy slacks, and brown loafers.

Wow, said Dina. I’m starting to regret pointing him out to you. Maybe I’ll keep him to myself. She followed this up with a smirk, but part of me wanted to leave him to her.

Hmm...I don’t know.

"Wait, what? How do you ‘not know’?"

"I mean, he’s handsome and all, but...he’s a little too refined for my tastes. I bet he works in some office at a computer, never gets his hands dirty. Hell, I bet he’s the kind of man who thinks using his body for work is beneath him or something."

Hey, you don’t know that. And besides, there’s only one use I care about for that body.

I laughed. I swear, you’re two seconds away from drooling all over the floor.

Over a guy like him? Can you blame me? She nudged me with her elbow. Come on – go talk to him.

What would I even say? I asked. Nice loafers?

Oh, that’s a good one, she said, her hungry eyes locked on the man. Maybe I’ll try it out.

Before either of us could do anything, however, the man slipped his phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear. A smile on his face, he began chatting away as he started off from the racks of clothes. Moments later he’d melted into the crowd and was gone.

Damn, said Dina. See, that’s why you’ve got to take these chances when you can – if you let them slip past, you might miss out on the man of your dreams.

"I seriously doubt he was the man of my dreams, D."

But you get the point, right? You have to be bold, seize the day! Otherwise, you’ll look up and all of a sudden, you’re forty with a houseful of pet ferrets or something you’re pretending are your kids. Not pretty.

I laughed at the idea. Come on – I’m not even twenty-five yet. I’ve got time.

Heath, I’m older and wiser than you-

D, you’re five years older than me.

"That’s older and wiser. And I’ve been around the block enough times to know that you don’t have all the time in the world. I’m almost thirty, you know."

Thirty’s not that old.

Yeah, but it’s closer to forty than I’m comfortable with. So, trust me – the sooner the better.

Big words for a girl whose favorite pastime is bed-hopping.

I bed-hop, she said, raising a finger to correct me. But I bed-hop with a purpose. It’s to find the perfect man. You can’t have the perfect man without him being perfect in bed, right? So, I get him under the covers and, ah, check out our sexual compatibility before deciding if we’re going to take things further.

She flitted through clothes on the rack as we spoke, and I did the same.

And how’s that working out for you?

Very well, as a matter of fact. Some guys aren’t even worth one night. Others are most definitely a ‘one-night’ sort of things. And others are more like a fun week or two. But I still have yet to find the guy who just...gets me, you know? Understands what I want in bed without needing to ask. I know he’s out there, and I’m going to find him.

I considered her words, wondering how true they were. I could count the number of guys I’d been with on one hand, and none of them had been anything special in bed – not that I’d ever slept with a guy so good that I’d remember him like that.

Hell, most of the guys I’d been with had been total losers in bed, chasing me around like puppies until I finally gave them what they’d wanted, only for the whole thing to leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Never once had I had an amazing romance, one that I’d remember for years. And if I was being totally honest with myself, my lack of success in the love department had been one of the big reasons I’d wanted to throw myself into my job.

OK, said Dina. We can work up to the ‘approaching random guys’ thing.

Does that mean you can tell me what the surprise is?

She grinned, as if she’d been waiting for me to say just that.

I sure can. Come with me.

Dina took my hand and led me through the department store. Moments later, we were in the outside shopping area in the food court. She checked her watch.

Perfect. Just in time.

’Just in time’ for what?

You’ll see.

My hand still in hers, she led me through the area to a gathering of a few dozen women.

Alright, D, I said. "Can you please tell me what all of this is about?"

Yep! Give me a second.

She pulled out her phone and did some typing and scrolling. Then, she held up the screen to me.

It was a picture of him – Clayton Brown.

Win a Date with Clayton Brown! were the words on the screen.

No way, I said, shaking my head. What is this, some kind of contest?

It’s a raffle, she said, tucking her phone back into her pocket. "And guess what? I entered you in it – like five times, actually."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Are you serious? I asked. "Dina, these contests are ridiculous. The odds of me winning and, like, nothing."

But what if you do win? Come on – maybe it’s stupid, but I saw there was a chance for you to have a dream date with the guy you’ve got the biggest crush in the world on. No way I’d just let it slide past.

Alright – as silly as it was, I had to give Dina credit for thinking of me.

It’s sweet of you, I said. But like I said, the odds are astronomical.

"Hey – someone’s going to win. And whoever does, gets an amazing night out with the hottest dude in the city. Worst case, nothing happens – right?"

I sighed. She had a point. And deep down in my gut, the idea of going out on a date with Clayton Brown himself did sound pretty amazing. Not like it would actually happen, of course. But a girl could dream.

Here, she said, taking my hand. They’re going to announce the winner here, right now.

Wait, what?

The other women gathered around another woman on stage, one dressed in a snazzy business suit. I formed up with Dina and listened.

Alright, ladies! she said, microphone in hand. Thank you all so much for entering the raffle! As you all know, the winner will be receiving an all-expenses-paid night on the town with Clayton Brown himself!

That got the women screaming. It looked like I wasn’t the only girl in town who had a major crush on the guy.

Now, she said, stepping aside and revealing a pair of large TVs on stage, different phone numbers appearing on the screen, one after another. The other screen was filled with an image of Clayton himself, dressed in his just-tight-enough Cubs uniform, a smile on his face and a bat in his hands. God, he was so fucking hot.

When you entered the contest, your phone number was put into a virtual raffle box. And when I press this button here... She gestured toward a button shaped like a baseball cut in half. The computer will pick the phone number of the winner. You’ll get a congratulatory text with all the information for your date with Clayton. You all ready?

More wild cheers sounded from the crowd. Dina grabbed my hand, raising her eyebrows and smiling in excitement.

Here. We. Go! The woman pressed the baseball button, the numbers appeared on the screen slowed down.

They slowed and slowed, and eventually stopped, a number staying on the screen.

And it wasn’t just any number.

It was mine.

I’d won.

I nearly fainted on the spot.

2

C

LAYTON

Wake up, big man!

Huh?

My eyes still closed, I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.

Come on, Clay! Up and at ‘em! Nap time’s over!

I groaned, recognizing the voice of Steve Simms, my agent. He was chipper as ever, and chipper was the last thing I wanted to deal with first thing in the morning.

One more hour, I said. Just... I didn’t even bother to finish the sentence. Last night had been a killer, a major game against the Padres. We’d kicked their asses, of course. But between the game and the afterparty with the rest of the guys, I was in desperate need of some sleep.

Alright, said Steve. Looks like I’m going to need to resort to some desperate measures.

I heard the sound of his dress shoes across the wood floor, going over to the far end of the room.

No way! I said. Don’t even think about it!

Hey, I tried to get you the easy option.

Before I could do or say anything else, a click sounded out, followed by the whirr of the motor for the blinds. The bedroom to my penthouse filled with bright light, so intense that it didn’t even matter if I kept my eyes closed.

So, I opened them. The day outside was bright and sunny, the towers of downtown Chicago rising up all around me. My penthouse was amazing – had to admit. When I’d signed my multi-million-dollar contract with the Cubs, it’d been one of the first purchases I’d made – one of many amazing things I never would’ve guessed I’d ever have back when I was some poor-ish kid playing street baseball with my buds.

Man, said Steve, stepping in front of me. For one of the best players in baseball, you sure can be a lazy-ass. He smirked, letting me know he was only messing around.

Steve Simms was dressed in his usual sharp suit, his reddish hair close-cropped and his black dress shoes polished to such a mirror shine they reflected the sunlight now pouring in. His features were sharp, always reminding me of a wolf in the middle of trying to figure out how he was

Reviews for Pitcher's Secret Baby

[lola7hillier · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Just getting to read this book….wth! The author has a single mom putting her 3 yr old to bed then leaving her apartment to go visit a friend….with a bottle of wine!!!! Noooo! Don’t write things like this! Doesn’t put the author in a sensible mind set! Sheesh!